


baby, i can put you on

by divinerenjun



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Creampie, Crossdressing, Explicit Sexual Content, Floor Sex, M/M, Mirror Sex, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Spanking, Threesome - M/M/M, alice ten, but just a little bit its hot, snow white kun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:35:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27273550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divinerenjun/pseuds/divinerenjun
Summary: “How does it feel, Johnny,” Ten whispers like a prayer in the dead of night, “to be fucked by two pretty princesses?”
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny/Qian Kun
Comments: 25
Kudos: 219





	baby, i can put you on

**Author's Note:**

> real talk why was kun freeballing in that dress.

Johnny considers himself a decent man. 

He’s hardworking, always willing to go the extra mile during comeback season, staying up til dawn and waking with a scratchy voice and aching muscles. He’s professional, holding his own at important company meetings and acting as partial-PR for the group when one of them acts before they think. And he’s kind, going out of his way to express his care for the members every chance he gets. 

So kind, in fact, that he takes time out of the one free day he has this week to bring WayV coffee during their Halloween-themed dance practice shoot. And because he’s such a decent, honest man, with integrity positively gushing out of his every action, this coffee delivery has _nothing_ to do with the selfies Ten sent him an hour ago. 

Laced up in pale blue, blond wig tied away from his face, lips red and plush and perfect. He likes Ten’s costume, sure, but certainly not enough to merit dropping sixty bucks on drinks for the whole group.

A nagging voice in his head tells him he’s being a _very_ bad boy, a _liar_ even, but he pays it no attention and whips out his phone in the middle of the hallway to examine the selfies again. Ten has the camera angled so Johnny can see how short his dress is, and Johnny grew up reading Alice in Wonderland, so to some extent it’s traumatizing to be thinking about flipping that skirt up and fucking Ten until he forgets his own name. 

Johnny is a decent man, and his timing is always perfect: he walks through the practice room door just in time to watch the final few seconds of choreography, and then claps along with the crew when they wrap up. 

Ten spots him instantly, giving a little wave, and Johnny feels his stomach swoop like an eagle that’s just spotted a tasty piece of prey in a field far below. 

A picture may be worth a thousand words, but it pales in comparison to the real thing. Ten’s cheeks are flushed from dancing and the smile stretching his bright lips is blinding. The blue bow sitting atop his head is off-kilter, just a little bit, and Johnny’s fingers twitch, aching to right the single imperfection in Ten’s otherwise flawless appearance, aching to preen him, dance across every inch of exposed skin and comb through that fake blond hair and snap those thigh-high socks against his pale little legs. 

Kun beats him to it.

“Ten-ah,” he scolds, deft hands straightening his bow and petting down the bangs that fall soft across Ten’s forehead. “You still have to do your ending fairy.” He keeps talking after that, but there’s a buzzing that’s filled Johnny’s ears so he misses the rest.

Kun looks… pretty. 

His skirt is longer than Ten’s, hanging to his ankles, and the cap sleeves of his dress sit off his shoulders, accentuating the taut muscles of his arms and complementing his skin in deep, royal blue. The neckline is wide, showing off his collarbones as he turns to fuss with Sicheng’s pale yellow wig. 

Wig.

Kun’s is dark, cut short in a bob with bangs across one half of his face. He tosses his head to get it out of his eyes, and Johnny wants to run his fingers through it, take a fistful and _pull_ even though he knows it’s not really Kun’s hair. 

“Pretty, isn’t he?” Ten’s words make Johnny jump, spoken right into his ear. He glances down to see Ten on his tiptoes, grinning something wicked. Ten nods toward Kun, then tilts his head, expectant.

Johnny smiles, and hands Ten his coffee. “Not as pretty as you,” he flirts, knowing his place, and Ten rolls his eyes.

“You flatter me. He looks just as good as I do, I know.” Ten takes a sip, raising his eyebrows. Johnny just shrugs and gives Ten a fond look.

“Whatever you say. I like your dress.”

Another eyeroll. “Yes, Johnny, I know. You only texted me those exact words, like, twenty times already.”

The director calls Ten back to shoot his ending fairy, and Johnny holds his coffee cup and laughs along with everyone else when Ten gives the camera a coy wink. His laughter dies when Kun takes centerstage and stretches his arms wide. His forearms tense up and Johnny kind of wants to feel those arms wrapped around his shoulders while Kun bounces on his cock—not an abnormal Thursday night.

As the crew packs up, the WayV members come over one by one to say hi and grab their drinks. Johnny hands them all off along with a deluge of compliments for every member’s costume. YangYang lets him touch his fake boobs, which Ten thinks is just hilarious, and Xiaojun reaches up to tweak Johnny’s nose, dancing out of reach when Johnny tries to wrap a sly arm around his bare waist. 

Then, Kun. He’s got Ten right behind him, hovering like the devil on his shoulder, and the look in his pretty dark eyes is lethal. “Hi Johnny,” he says, and his voice crashes over Johnny like a 10-foot wave on Jeju island. Johnny’s forcefully reminded of the sharp lines and deadly muscles concealed beneath the pretty gauze of Kun’s dress. 

“Hi, Kun,” Johnny says, forcing a smile that’s as decent as he can manage in the wake of these thoughts washing clean through his brain. Ten stifles a giggle, and Kun takes his coffee. 

“Thanks,” he says, and doesn’t take a sip. “Do you like it?” he asks, tilting his head and holding one side of the skirt out from his body, fanning it across the long lengths of his legs. Johnny feels the breath of cool wind and shoots Ten a glare.

“Yeah, Kun, I do. You look very nice. I’m impressed you managed to dance in it—any of you, actually. Very professional.”

Kun nods, over-sincere, then rolls his eyes and gives Johnny a playful push on his chest. Johnny smiles, and Ten leans in, completing their little triangle of secrecy as he hushes his voice. “The next practice room up the hallway should be empty,” He whispers, giving Johnny a look through dark mascara-ed eyelashes. “That is, if you want to do more than just ogle.”

Johnny huffs out a laugh, and lets Kun lead the way.

Ten clicks the door lock behind himself, and before Johnny knows it he’s being pushed back, back, warm hands on his shoulders and Kun’s breath hot on his lips. 

When he hits the wall, the pressure doesn’t let up. Kun pins him there against the cool mirror, staring Johnny down in a calm, collected manner. Johnny’s heart starts racing, and he gulps.

Ten giggles, hooking his chin over Kun’s shoulder to look at Johnny as well. Johnny feels like prey, like a mouse in the lion’s den, and feels heat rise to his cheeks.

“Do you think we’re pretty, Johnny hyung?” Ten asks, voice lilting so prettily, and Johnny allows himself a small smile as he gazes deep into Kun’s eyes. 

“Yes,” he breathes out. His hands find their place on either side of Kun’s tight waist, and he squeezes, feeling slick fabric bunch under his palms. “The prettiest,” he whispers, and Kun leans in closer.

“Do you want to fuck us like this, Johnny?” he asks, and his lips quirk at the corners. He knows the answer already.

Johnny just nods, and presses forward to kiss Kun gently, running his tongue across the line of his upper lip, the seam where it meets his bottom lip, the smooth curve of his teeth beneath. Kun is slow, languid like the ocean against a pale blue horizon, and Johnny melts into him like butter.

Ten sighs as he watches, a pleased little huff not unlike a purr, then hooks his fingers under Johnny’s chin and forces him to pull away. Johnny pouts, but Kun grins and steps to the side to let Ten have his fun. 

Ten pushes forward and kisses Johnny like he’s being paid for it, all teeth and tongue and burning, searing hunger. Johnny swallows his moans and works against him with just as much fervor. Their teeth click together, and Johnny grabs Ten’s waist and flips them so Ten is pressed against the mirror. Ten gasps at the change, and Kun’s pleased hum is music to Johnny’s ears. 

“Wanna,” Johnny breathes against Ten’s wet, intoxicating lips—like a bottle with the label ‘ _drink me,’_ dangerous and enticing. “Wanna blow you,” he finishes, and Ten’s head falls back against the glass with a moan. 

In the corner of his eye, Johnny sees Kun nod, and he sinks to his knees, hands tight to the sides of Ten’s body and gripping as they drag down his waist, hips, thighs, and finally slip up under that pretty blue dress where they belong. Johnny sits back on his haunches, taking in the way Ten’s neck is flushed and bared to the world as he stares up at the ceiling, the way the hem of those stripey socks digs into the taut flesh of his thighs, how the flouncy layers of the dress and apron make Ten look that much smaller in Johnny’s grip. 

“The prettiest,” Johnny repeats his answer from earlier, and Ten looks down at him with so much trust and fondness in his eyes Johnny nearly turns and runs. 

Then, Kun’s hand is warm against the top of his head. Strong fingers curl through Johnny’s hair and tug, sharp sparks of pain drifting out through Johnny’s scalp, and he takes the hint. 

His hands slide higher up Ten’s legs, fiddling with the hems of those little black safety shorts before feeling up the half-hard length of his cock through the fabric. Ten jumps against his palm, and lets out a little gasp that makes Johnny grin. He pulls the shorts down and Ten steps out of them, flush dusting his cheeks. 

“Kun doesn’t have anything on under his,” Ten pipes up. Kun gives him a glare, and Johnny feels his cock strain against the front of his sweatpants.

Johnny smiles up at him, and one of Ten’s hands grips Johnny’s jaw tight for a second before releasing, letting go, letting it _all_ go. Ten watches, lazy, as Johnny flips up his skirt, admires the fluttering dress as it falls back into place, then flips it up again, Kun’s free hand coming to pin it up around Ten’s waist so Johnny has easy access to his dick. 

Johnny fits his thumb and pointer finger around the base of Ten’s cock. He knows him so well, every inch of his pretty dancer’s body, that he can watch Ten’s face as he leans forward, knows just when to flick his tongue out so that it grazes light across Ten’s crown and makes him groan.

“How do you know, Ten?” he asks, coy as he sucks just the tip into his mouth then pulls off. “How you know he doesn’t have anything underneath?”

Kun laughs, a short sharp sound that shoots through Johnny’s ears straight to his arousal. Ten blushes deeper, and his cock jumps in Johnny’s grip. 

“Let me touch him before filming,” Ten admits under his breath, and Kun laughs again. He steps forward, into their little circle, and grab’s Ten’s bare arm, guiding his hand to the front of his skirt. Ten touches eagerly, tracing light fingers against the silky fabric. Johnny watches it all with his tongue licking messily along Ten’s length, pressing tight under the head and sucking sloppy around the tip. 

Ten’s hips buck off the mirror when Johnny finally swallows him down, relaxing his jaw and feeling spit pool under his tongue. He looks up as his eyes water, tears clinging to the delicate lines of his lashes and blurring his vision. It’s still clear enough to see when Kun leans in and kisses the gasps off Ten’s lips as Johnny bobs his head. 

He only blows him for a few minutes, sucking until he feels spit drip down his chin and his mouth is full of Ten’s heady taste, eyes hazy with the sight of pale blue contrasting smooth, tan skin. He pulls off, panting, and Ten’s fingers fit around his chin again, tugging him up until Kun can kiss the taste from his tongue.

“Fuck, you taste so good, Ten,” Kun murmurs, and Ten surges forward, pressing his lips tight to Johnny’s and licking through every corner of his mouth, dragging gentle moans from Johnny’s throat. 

“I do, don’t I?” Ten says, grinning as he pulls away. Kun gives him a side-eyed glance, then focuses back in on Johnny. 

“How do you want this?” he asks, fingers petting down from Johnny’s hair along the strong column of his neck. Johnny preens at the touch and the question, reveling in the power they’re giving him, until he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and feels that power slip through the cracks in his fingers.

He looks wrecked, and no one’s even touched him yet. Cheeks flushed, lips and chin spit-slick, hair mussed from Kun’s attention. He thanks God that Ten locked the door, and turns to Kun with parted lips. 

“Wanna feel you both,” he says, and Kun’s hand drifts lower to grip at his bicep. Johnny steps forward, crowding Ten back against the mirror and grinning when Ten stares up at him with a challenge in his eyes. Johnny grips Ten’s waist tight then dips lower, pawing at his hip through the dress. He bends a bit, giving Kun a little nod to step back, and grips Ten’s thigh.

Ten tilts his head, but before he can process what’s happening Johnny’s lifting his leg up, up, pushing it back against the mirror until Ten’s in a vertical version of the splits. The skirt falls down his thigh, pooling around his waist as his cheeks flush at the exposure. Johnny brushes the excess fabric out of the way and holds Ten’s waist tight so he doesn’t fall as his leg still planted on the ground wobbles.

“Fuck,” Johnny breathes out. Ten’s cock hangs heavy between his legs, jumping as Ten’s gaze flicks between Kun and Johnny’s faces and crotches. His ass is out, pretty pink hole bared to the world with this strange, revealing stretch, and Kun presses a finger against it, circling. Ten’s leg nearly gives out at the dry slide, and Johnny tenses his arm to keep him upright. Kun’s finger brushes up Ten’s perineum and balls, then traces a straight line down the length of his cock. 

Ten holds eye contact with Johnny the whole time, eyelashes fluttering against his pretty, cosmetic-dusted cheeks. His eyelids are painted with subtle eyeliner, sparkles ringing his waterline, and Johnny leans down to kiss each one gently. Kun brings his hand up to spit on it, then wraps it tight around Ten’s cock and pumps. 

Ten literally keels forward, bending further in half and gasping at the stretch. “Holy shit,” he gasps. His thighs are tense, ankle thin enough for Johnny to wrap his finger and thumb around completely as he holds him open. “Holy shit,” Ten repeats, straightening back up to let his head fall back against the wall again. “Fuck, Kun, I’m gonna come—”

Kun pulls his hand away, and Ten whimpers. “Fuck you,” he spits, glaring in Kun’s direction. Kun blows him a kiss, then slips his hand into Johnny’s pocket and fiddles with the little bottle of lube Johnny brought with him in anticipation.

He’s a decent man, Johnny swears. 

“Saw this in your pocket earlier,” Kun says as he pulls it out, and Johnny grins, still holding Ten up against the mirror. Kun and Ten’s wigs are getting frizzy as the practice room grows heated, humid with their sweat and arousal. 

“I like to be prepared,” Johnny justifies. He frowns after another second. “Only brought one condom, though. Wasn’t expecting to have two pretty princesses down to fuck.” Ten wrinkles his nose at the lewd expression. Johnny thinks it over for a second, humming at the dilemma, then shrugs, and gives Kun a nonchalant once-over. His dress is slipping down one of his shoulders and Johnny wants to rip it off, tear it in half and fuck him in the scraps. “You can raw me if you want, I guess,” he says, and revels in the way Kun’s eyes go wide before narrowing, focusing in on Johnny like he’s the center of his world. 

“Yeah?” Kun asks, stepping closer and smoothing his palms across the broad stretch of Johnny’s chest under his shirt. His movements and voice are smooth, slippery like a snake but grounded like the very earth Johnny treads. “You’d let me do that? You’d let me take care of you like that? Is that what you want?”

Johnny nods, half-frantic as he thinks about the hot, slick press of Kun’s cock deep inside him. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d gone without a condom. Johnny reminisces, picturing his own cum dripping dirty down the inside of Ten’s thighs, and bends forward to kiss at those same pretty legs, biting and sucking marks high enough to be hidden by the hem of the Alice dress. Ten whimpers with each press of Johnny’s lips against his sensitive skin, and nods when Johnny pulls away to give him a questioning look.

“Yeah,” Ten says, “yeah, you don’t need to use one with me either,” and Johnny kisses him breathless as he lets Ten’s leg fall back to the floor. The skirts curtain back over Ten’s thighs, concealing his dignity. The flush remains high on his cheeks.

“How do you feel about getting that pretty dress dirty, Ten?” Kun asks, already grabbing Ten’s arm to start pulling him down. Johnny sinks with them, letting Kun push at the small of his back until he’s hovering over Ten where he now sits, back propped against the mirror, legs spread. He looks sinful, dress rucked up around his hips, cock tenting the front of his skirts. Johnny fits between his legs with ease, like it’s where he belongs.

Kun watches Johnny’s face through the mirror as Ten kisses the curve of his throat, pressing his tongue against the hard cartilage of Johnny’s Adam’s apple and clearly resisting the urge to bite. 

“So,” Johnny pants, one hand bracing his torso against the mirror as Kun slips behind him and inches his fingers under the hem of Johnny’s shirt. “Nothing underneath, huh?”

Kun grins, bending to press a kiss to the nape of Johnny’s neck. His hands are tempered against Johnny’s skin, and when he pinches Johnny’s nipples Johnny melts a little bit. Pressed between them, two sets of lips on his neck, and he feels right at home. His hand reaches for Ten’s where it’s resting on his thigh and grips tight. 

“Nothing underneath,” Kun declares, soft into Johnny’s ear. He presses his hips forward to accentuate his point, and Johnny feels the hard line of his cock tight against his lower back. He wriggles against it, aching to feel it tight between his cheeks instead.

“Johnny,” Ten whines against his jaw, and Johnny looks down at him, the big bow skewed to the side of his blond wig, the white collar sitting snug around his flushed neck, and wants to scoop him up in a huge bear hug and never let go. 

Kun pulls Johnny away from Ten to slide his shirt up over his head, and Ten surges forward to latch his lips around the little nub of Johnny’s left nipple, right over his heart, sucking out the very blood from his veins, the very love that surges through his body with each press of Kun’s tongue to each knob of his bare spine. Johnny admires how Ten looks against his body, dwarfed against his chest, and meets Kun’s hooded eyes in the mirror. 

“Here,” Kun mutters, and passes Johnny the lube. Johnny shifts them all around so Ten is lying perpendicular to the mirror. When he looks to his right he sees himself caging Ten in, hands braced on either side of his waist as he kisses down the skinny curves of Ten’s stomach. Kun’s still behind him, hands wandering over every inch of his back and ribs and dipping under his sweatpants now and then in a very distracting manner.

Johnny sees Kun toss his head to get the bangs out of his eyes just like he did in the other practice room and grins, sitting up to lift Ten’s legs around his waist. He uncaps the lube and drips some right onto Ten’s hole, admiring the way he jerks against the hard floor, dress crinkling. 

“You good?” he asks, massaging the liquid around Ten’s rim until he’s moaning and nodding and his cock is flush against the white fabric of the underskirt. 

Kun hooks his chin over Johnny’s shoulder and watches as he pushes the first finger in, moving slow and easy. Kun presses kisses along his shoulder, up his neck, until Johnny turns his head and meets him halfway, kissing his pretty red lips and aching for more, aching to make Kun feel good too. He arches his finger inside Ten, feeling as all his muscles tense, watching the ruffles of the apron sleeves ripple. 

“So pretty,” Johnny says, and Kun nods his head in agreement. “Such a pretty princess,” he adds, just to watch the way Ten gives him a glare even as he blushes. The dark hair of Kun's wig tickles Johnny’s collarbone, and Johnny drops more liquid down Ten’s perineum, slipping a second finger in when Ten’s loose enough. He gets Ten nice and wet and sloppy before passing the little bottle to Kun and shifting his hips.

Kun presses a chaste kiss to his jaw, then uses his empty hand to drag Johnny’s sweatpants and briefs down to his knees in one fell swoop. Johnny lifts each leg individually, letting Kun pull them all the way off, and scissors his fingers deeper into Ten, adding a third as cool liquid dribbles across his own hole. 

He jumps. “You couldn’t have warmed it up a little first?” he asks, pointed. 

From the floor, Ten gives him a glare. “Karma, bitch,” he says, before his face twists up and he’s groaning like a cat in heat. Johnny nudges up against his prostate again, rubbing little circles against the sensitive nerves, and watches Ten’s abs clench and release intermittently.

Kun’s hands are broad across his ass, palming the muscle there and gripping tight, spreading. He slaps a hand down across one side of Johnny’s ass, huffing out a laugh, and Johnny whimpers against the sharp sting. 

Kun slips one finger in with little warning, knowing Johnny likes the surprise, especially coming from him. The hand not occupied with Ten’s hole clenches into the fabric around Ten’s waist, and Johnny’s head hangs forward between his shoulders as he moans.

“Fuck, Kun—fuck,” he chokes out, turning to watch Kun in the mirror as he fingers him open. His gaze is honest, gentler than before, soft and pretty like the skirt pooling around his knees against the floor. Johnny traces the lines of his face with his eyes, takes in the pretty wings of his eye makeup, the gentle curve of his nose, and almost doesn’t notice when Kun adds another finger. “Pretty,” Johnny murmurs, and Kun turns to meet his gaze in the mirror, blushing for the first time that night. Johnny gives him a true, open smile. 

Then, Kun’s scissoring him open, and Johnny watches himself fall apart. 

“Oh—god,” his breath hitches. “Ohmygod,” all one word, no space between the three words or the three people pressed tight together in this big, empty practice room.

Kun grins in the mirror. “‘S been a while, huh?” Johnny nods, and bends down to kiss Ten through the stretch. He pulls his fingers from Ten’s hole with a squelching sound that should be unpleasant but isn't, bracing himself with hands on either side of Ten’s narrow shoulders.

Kun pushes him further, pulls him away from Ten’s lips by the hair before shoving his face down onto Ten’s chest, ass in the air. The angle of Kun’s fingers shifts deeper, and Johnny jerks as Kun fucks him open more thoroughly.

They go like this, Ten’s cock brushing against Johnny’s chest, Kun’s fingers diligent, until Kun pulls out and slaps his hand down across Johnny’s hole. Johnny gasps, clenching up around the sudden pain and emptiness, and bites into the pristine white material of Ten’s little apron. 

“Do you like this?” Kun asks him, words sharp. He slaps down across Johnny’s rim again, and Johnny jerks forward, teeth grazing against Ten’s abdomen. 

Johnny does like it, likes being slapped around by a pretty man in a pretty dress, and he says as much, cries it into Ten’s perfect skin as Ten’s fingers card through his hair, soothing. 

“I can’t believe we got you this worked up, hyung,” Ten says, voice laced with awe. Johnny just whimpers as Kun lands another stinging slap.

“Fuck me, Kun,” Johnny practically begs. Kun’s hands draw smooth up the thick, taut lengths of his thighs before reaching around to pull his chest up off Ten’s body, letting his hips sink down and guiding them so Johnny’s lined up with Ten’s hole. 

“Only because I think it’s funny you’re begging to be fucked by Snow White,” Kun says with a laugh. Ten laughs with him, and Johnny is caught in the middle of a hailstorm that pelts him with words left unsaid, the musical timbre of both their voices bouncing around his head like a ping-pong ball. 

Johnny’s cock is aching, so he pushes forward first, sinking deep into Ten with a sigh like settling into a warm bath. Kun holds him up, clothed chest flush to his bare back, as he buries himself to the hilt. Ten twists against the floor, hands scrabbling for purchase amidst the folds of fabric pooling around his hips and chest. 

Johnny rests there, panting, Ten’s walls tight and warm around his cock, until Kun’s hand brushes his ass and he’s guiding his cock up to press against Johnny’s rim, free hand holding his long yellow skirt up out of the way.

Johnny’s hips jerk back, aching for pressure, and he fucks himself onto Kun’s cock, pulling out of Ten to the tip as he does so. 

“Holy shit, holy fuck—” Johnny breathes, and Kun’s hands move to grip Ten’s thighs on either side of Johnny’s waist. Johnny rolls his hips back and forth, back and forth, fucking himself and Ten with each rocking, fluid motion. “Oh my god,” and Ten clenches around him, as if to keep him deep inside, keep his cock warm and never let go. 

Kun pushes forward then, pressing Johnny down until his hands bracket Ten’s head and Ten’s bent nearly in half to accommodate. The shifted position nudges Kun’s cock right up into Johnny’s prostate and he cants his hips back against the tight pull of Ten’s hole, the urge to stay sunk deep in him like quicksand, to chase that little, insistent high. 

Kun fucks him like that, dress tickling the back of Johnny’s thighs with every thrust, so that every time Kun’s cock is deep in his ass, his is buried in Ten’s, and each time he pulls out Johnny is drawn halfway out of Ten like a piston charging itself tight. 

“How does it feel, Johnny,” Ten whispers like a prayer in the dead of night, “to be fucked by two pretty princesses,” and that’s all it takes for Johnny to come, muscles twitching, arms straining tight to hold himself up off Ten’s body as Kun fucks him through it. 

In any other circumstance, Johnny would feel a bit embarrassed about not lasting longer, but neither of his princesses seem to mind. Kun moans, hips stuttering, as Johnny goes lax in his grip. Ten shifts around and whimpers, cock twitching, when Johnny’s cum leaks out around his dick as Kun’s thrusts keep driving him in and out, in and out. Ten has enough wits about him to reach down and pull the hems of his skirts out of the way.

Strong fingers grip Johnny’s jaw and twist his head so he’s looking in the mirror, watching himself rock between the two bodies done up in blues and yellows and pretty wigs. His eyes catch Kun’s and trace eagerly up the hard lines of his muscles under the dress as he fucks Johnny hard. Kun holds his gaze, eyelids fluttering, as he comes. 

Ten’s watching too, and his blond bangs are in his eyes, wig slightly askew, makeup smudged around his eyes, but he looks like heaven as he drinks in the sight of Kun’s orgasm-tense face reflected in the glass. Kun still looks gorgeous as he comes, sharp lines of his cheekbones softening as his mouth falls open, head thrown back, neck bare and collarbones defined where they poke out of the dress’s red collar. 

Kun’s hips still, and he stays buried in Johnny’s ass, sighing in the aftershocks. There are no free hands to hold his yellow skirt up, so it’s draped around Johnny’s ass like a veil, shielding it and Kun’s cock from view, a final vestige of modesty in this fucked-out room. 

“Hi, hello, that was lovely and I’m very glad you both came so quickly, but I am not a seventeen-year-old and therefore am going to need a little—” Ten’s words are cut off with a gasp as Johnny pulls out. 

Johnny pushes two fingers into Ten’s pink, used hole, holding eye contact as he gathers his own cum and pulls back out. He wraps his now slick fingers around Ten’s cock, pumps once, twice, and then Ten’s spilling out over Johnny’s hand, back arching up off the floor. Cum shoots out onto the folds of his dress, and Johnny feels Kun wince even as his spent cock twitches in Johnny’s ass.

“You’re so annoying,” Ten breathes out after a few strung-out whimpers of both their names.

“Which one of us?” Johnny asks, coy. His muscles aren’t shaking any longer, and he sits up straight and holds his cum-covered hand up above his shoulder, watching in the mirror as Kun leans forward to lick it clean. 

“Yes,” Ten replies in exasperation, and his head thuds back against the floor, wig finally giving up and sliding off his head, carried by the weight of the big bow. As Kun sucks at his fingers, Johnny takes in the short, lean lines of Ten’s body debauched against the hardwood, skirt ruffled up around his chest, little legs squeezed tight by those damn thigh-highs. Johnny bends forward again to nip at the hem of the socks, and Ten whines, sensitive.

Johnny laughs, and Kun pulls off his fingers with an audible ‘pop.’ Spit drips down Johnny’s palm and he wipes it on Ten’s apron to his chagrin. 

Almost in tandem, they all look back to the mirror. Johnny kneels naked between them in their dresses, and Kun smiles lazily as he wraps his arms tight around Johnny’s bare middle. 

“Pretty,” Johnny murmurs, and Ten blows him a kiss from amidst the sea of pale blue cotton he lies in. 

Kun rests his head on Johnny’s shoulder and smiles. “Pretty,” he agrees, and Johnny feels warmth bubble in his chest like a stream breaking its banks. He captures that warmth inside himself, holds it tight to his heart, and thinks that maybe this is where he’s belonged all along. 

**Author's Note:**

> these boys are really pretty and i like them a normal amount. thanks for reading!! 
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/divinerenjun) | [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/divinerenjun)


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